Heart of a Warrior
by Ixorie
Summary: The dragon backed him into a corner and growled. Hiccup found himself scrambling on the ground, his head hitting a rock. He held out his hands defensively, covering his face, and sucked in a deep breath. An alternative take on how Hiccup found Toothless, and how the duo managed to melt the hearts of the Vikings and drive away the bitterness of the past.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

 **This is my very first HTTYD fanfiction. I loved the movies and also Dragons: Race to the Edge so I hope I do the series justice. The story takes place in the same universe as that of the movie, but follows a significantly different timeline. The plot will be entirely different, but I will retain the personalities of the characters. (I'm terrible with author notes sorry guys D:) Let me know what you think after this first chapter! Constructive criticism is always appreciated :)**

 **Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me; only the plot.**

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A little boy sits on the planks by the docks, his little legs hanging over the side, just shy of the water surface. His bright green eyes are shining as they focus intensely on the parchment before him. His left hand tightly grips a charcoal pen and he scrunches his nose in concentration, the tip of his tongue sticking out from the left corner of his mouth. He glances briefly upward at the ship and then back down again, furiously scribbling once again. His hair is windswept and it is particularly chilly in the cool morning air, but the child remains warm in his brown fur tunic vest. His thick brown boots serve him well; he only wishes he has a pair of gloves to keep his hands from the chill. His lips are chapped and he darts his tongue out to wet them, only to have them remain numb and dry once the temporary moisture has seeped into the harsh wind. The boy sits there, largely unmoving, till the sun begins to rise in the horizon and he stops scratching on the parchment to watch in silent awe.

He likes this time of the day. The village is largely quiet, the Vikings still snoring away in the warm comforts of their homes. In the distance he sees a dragon land on a sea stack. From his vantage he can barely make out the silhouette of a fish for a split second before it is guzzled down by the large beast. The horned animal soars away with a loud call, and the little boy strains his ears and barely, just barely, hears an answer. He looks down on his lap and sees a near perfect replica of the dragon that he had just observed. He sometimes finds himself doing that - observing something beautiful, and his hands would act on their own accord and sketch out what his eyes could see. He doesn't remember much about his earlier years, save the memory of his mother teaching him to draw.

His mother was strong, beautiful, and independent, everything that he was not. Valka was a mother, a Chief's wife, and so, so much more. She was eccentric, many would agree, but her heart was big and so full of love. Valka brought his son up to be obedient, gentle, and loving. She taught him how to draw, how to walk, and how to talk. She was always there for her family; she was there to cook their meals, to give her husband a gentle massage after a hard day of chiefing. The family would sit by the fireplace, all three of them, the little boy cuddled in his mother's arms as his father told them of the hilarious disputes that he had had to settle. The Haddock family was always meant to be three, and so everything crumbled when it became two.

Stoick was never quite the same after Valka left. It had taken a toll on him, and he blamed himself for not being there for his wife. The previously hardheaded chief became even more protective of his village, and for an entire year Berk was in mourning. The village closed itself off to outsiders and that winter was bitterly cold. Strangely enough, it was as though nature sensed their grief, and dragon raids that year were few and far between. When they did return though, the Chief, fuelled with hatred and bitterness, ordered every dragon to be incapacitated, dead or alive. Stoick was never around anymore, and Hiccup found himself entrusted into the care of Gobber, the town's blacksmith, more often than not.

It was at the age of five that his father had dropped the hammer on him, literally. Hiccup found himself staggering from the weight of the massive weapon, and he floundered for a bit before falling onto his back. His father brought him into the outskirts of the village at the crack of dawn every day for the following weeks, trying to train his son to wield the mighty hammer. It was all for nought; Stoick soon realized that Hiccup was terrible at fighting, and that that was an understatement. Shaking his head, the chief had walked away. _What a hiccup,_ he thought to himself. Since then Hiccup was left alone. He didn't mind that all that much. He loved his solitude; it was good to escape the stifling air of disappointment around his father. Hiccup was young, but he was not naive. He knew he could never be the son that his dad wanted him to be.

Which brings us back to the present. Hiccup's ears prick up at the sound of footsteps thundering down the docks, and he sighs.

"Ooh look who we have here. It's Hiccup, the...well...hiccup!"

Hiccup winces slightly and looks at the water, refusing to meet the gaze of his obnoxious cousin Snotlout.

"What do we have here, wimp?"

Snotlout rips the parchment from right under Hiccup's hands, and it takes all of Hiccup's willpower to not burst into tears.

"Still drawing like a child eh? When are you going to grow up, Hiccup? When are you going to learn to wield a weapon like a real Viking? Oh wait. You can't."

The other children burst out into uproarious laughter, and Hiccup is suddenly seized with a burning fury.

"You'd...better watch what you...you say," he stutters, "my dad is the chief."

Even as he says it, Hiccup knows that it's an empty threat. Snotlout simply laughs and thrusts his arms out, sending the defenceless boy into the water. Hiccup tries to grab onto the platform but the other children are now stomping their boots around the edge, preventing him from getting a firm grip. Tears of hopelessness gather in his eyes.

"Hey Snotface! Leave him alone!"

Snotlout's demeanour immediately changes and he drops his voice to a lower register, turning around and cocking an eyebrow at the newcomer.

"Why hello there, beautiful."

The aforementioned girl, Astrid, with blonde hair tied neatly into a braid, rolls her eyes and steps forward, punching Snotlout in the gut.

"Leave. Him. Alone."

The beefy boy stumbles slightly but manages to catch himself, puffing out his chest.

"Fine. But only because you say so, lovely."

Hiccup manages to grab onto the docks and begins to hoist himself up. He is sent reeling back into the water, though, as Snotlout suddenly bends down and grips onto Hiccup's collar.

"And between you and me, Hiccup", he spits out, "you are no son of Stoick's."

Astrid drags him away by the ear then and the rest of the children disperse. The twins Ruffnut and Tuffnut head off presumably to blow something up, and the chubby boy Fishlegs seems to shoot an apologetic glance Hiccup's way but wanders off also.

Hiccup hoists himself out of the water and gathers his parchments, stuffing them into the pocket in his tunic. He is soaked and he dashes through the village and into the forest, tears already threatening to overflow. He will not give them the satisfaction of seeing him cry. Snotlout had hit him where it hurt. On any other day he would have stopped to admire the flora and fauna around him, but today, he runs blindly, twigs crunching beneath his feet, tripping over stray logs and branches. He can hear their laughter ringing in his ears and he pumps his legs faster. He finally collapses in an opening and kneels, letting the tears flow.

"Why," he screams, "why do the other children hate me so much, mum? I know what you would say; you would tell me that I shouldn't let them get me down, that you were proud of me no matter what. Why did you leave, mum? I need you so much right now. I just want to be loved. I want to be the son that Dad wants me to be. But I am not. Why can't I have someone who accepts me for who I am, just like you did? I want to be so much more than just a hiccup. I just...I just want a friend."

Hiccup buries his face into his hands and cries quietly, his shoulders wracking with sobs.

And in the silence of the clearing, a growl sounds.

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 **So, let me know what you think (:**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:**

 **Thank you for the reviews, follows, and favourites. I'm glad there are people on board with this idea. To be quite honest, I'm not quite sure where this story will take me, but we'll see. I was encouraged by the positive response so I've tried to get this chapter up as soon as possible despite it being finals season. So if you notice any bad grammar or horrible sentence structures, I'm terribly sorry D: But do let me know what you think since this chapter will be where things start getting interesting.**

 **Once again, characters in this story do not belong to** **me.**

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Hiccup's breath catches in his throat and his head snaps up so fast he is sure that he will feel the effects of it tomorrow. If he even makes it to tomorrow. He straightens up halfway and glances all around the clearing, trying to look for the source of disturbance. A brief sweep reveals nothing out of the ordinary and the boy slightly sags his shoulders in relief. He stays still for a brief moment longer, his ears alert to any unusual sounds. When his muscles begin protesting at holding such an awkward position for a prolonged period of time, he drops his defensive stance and sits back down onto the ground, crossing his legs. _Perhaps it was just a dragon flying overhead_ , he reasons to himself.

The strange disturbance had successfully snapped Hiccup out of his depressed state and now that his tears have dried, he takes an actual look at the surroundings around him. _It's beautiful,_ he muses. He is sitting in the middle of a clearing, or more accurately, a cove. Before him is a tiny lake, having formed no doubt from one of the powerful rain storms that plague the island multiple times a year. He scoots forward on his bum to peer into the depths and is in awe of the pristine water. The water on Berk was usually contained in barrels, or tubs, used for bathing or laundry only. This, this is different. The water is so clear that Hiccup can see everything - the rocks that line the bottom, the perch and trout that dart about beneath the surface. The child in Hiccup awakens and he dunks his hand into the water, trying to grab onto the fish that startle and swim away furiously. Hiccup laughs, and for the moment his despair is forgotten. Excited, he removes his boots and fur vest, discarding it off to the side before diving into the lake. The water is freezing and instantly his nerve endings are tingling, all his senses reawakened by the startling cold. He takes a large gulp of air before diving underwater, forcing his eyes to stay open as he chases after a school of fish. He can't help but laugh, bubbles escaping from his mouth as he surfaces rapidly, his hair now slicked back. He splashes around for a bit more, before the numbing sensation starts to creep in and he lifts himself out of the water, afraid of catching a cold.

He grabs his boots and vest and spreads them on a gigantic rock off to the side of the cove, before laying his back to it and staring up into the sky. He hasn't felt this peaceful in a long time. There is something about this cove that makes him feel close to his mother, as though she were sitting there right next to him. He closes his eyes, only to snap them open a second later when a loud whine sounds from the opposite end of the cove. Every instinct in his body is screaming at him to run, yet his curiosity seems to overrule all sense of reason and Hiccup finds himself inching forward on the grass, heading towards the part of the cove obscured in shadow. He hadn't noticed it before, but as he crept along the rocky walls and his eyes adjust to the dimmer lighting, a cave comes into view.

The sounds comes again and Hiccup flinches. Taking a deep breath, he wills himself to go forward. As soon as his right foot steps an inch into the cave opening, he hears a shrill cry. Hiccup flattens himself into the wall, his heart now beating so fast that he swears it could jump out of his chest. As his eyes once again adjust to the near pitch blackness of the cave, his heart nearly stops beating. A creature as black as the night, perfectly blended into the shadows of the hideout, lays on the ground, largely unmoving. The only signs of life are the heaving of its chest, and the contracted green orbs that have fixated onto his own. _A Night Fury._ Involuntarily, Hiccup takes a step backwards and the dragon's eyes follow his movement, all the while growling lowly. Hiccup freezes in place. Eventually, the night fury's growls subside and Hiccup cautiously takes another minuscule step forward. The dragon does not respond; its eyes are now shut.

Hiccup takes the time to examine the beast before him. He notices a dark blue substance on the cave ground and with a start, realizes that the sticky liquid was night fury blood. His eyes follow the trail and soon enough he is staring at a gaping wound on the belly of the great mystery class dragon. His stomach gives a queasy turn at the sight of such a grotesque, fresh injury, a hammer still embedded in it, and he lets out a slight gasp. The dragon snaps open its eyes again and tries to get up, letting out a shrill cry that made Hiccup duck in fear. He had heard enough stories to know that a burning hot plasma blast usually followed the night fury's cry. After only a couple of seconds, the beast warbles helplessly and flops down onto the ground once again, its breathing growing increasingly more laboured.

Something in Hiccup tugged against his heartstrings. Every Viking inch of him was telling him to get the villagers, to get his father so that they could mount the head of this beast in their Great Hall, but every Hiccup inch of him was crying out for this wounded creature, that didn't seem so dangerous now that it was downed. The Hiccup within won over the inner Viking, and with only a brief moment's hesitation, Hiccup took off back across the cove as fast as his little legs could carry him. He grabbed his clothes that still lay on the rock where he had left them and ran back into the cave, this time not bothering sticking to the walls. He heard the dragon give a small cry of surprise but ignored it, hurriedly yanking out the hammer and wrapping his vest around the gaping wound, hoping in vain that the bleeding would stop. Unfortunately, it doesn't take long for his vest to get soaked through.

He hangs his head in despair. There really is nothing that he can do at this point. The dragon seems to understand and nudges him softly, and Hiccup finds himself staring into the twin emerald pools that mirror his own. With a hiss the dragon unfurls its wing and Hiccup gasps in awe at the midnight black stone that lies beneath it. _Not a stone,_ he realizes, _an egg._ The night fury pushes it towards him and with trembling hands, Hiccup grasps it in his hands. The dying dragon lifts its head and holds Hiccup's gaze, opening its mouth slightly and warbling gently. Slowly, Hiccup lays a hand on its snout and it hums contentedly.

"Don't worry," Hiccup finds himself saying, "I'll take care of your baby."

The last bit of energy gone, the mother dragon drops her head back onto the ground and is still.

Hiccup pats her head one more time and slowly stands up, the egg firmly in his grasp. He picks up the hammer and examines it carefully. _Jorgenson._ Of course Snotlout's family would be the one to fell the swiftest dragon of all time. Disgusted by the brutality of his people, Hiccup grabs the bloodstained weapon and throws it into the lake, where it sinks to the bottom and settles in the dirt. He takes one last look at the body of the night fury and climbs out of the cove, the egg tucked away in his pocket. He will return tomorrow with a shovel. She deserved a proper send off.

He removes the egg from his pocket and cradles it in his arms, its tough shell glinting in the dying light.

"Don't worry," he tells it, "you'll be safe with me."


End file.
